


Alice Through The Wormhole

by babewithepower



Category: Farscape
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9918956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babewithepower/pseuds/babewithepower
Summary: You are Leali Ren, a sub-officer aboard a Peacekeeper Command Carrier. Life had been fine and routine, every solar day like any other. That is, until you catch the eye of the daunting Commander Scorpius and get reassigned to be his personal aide. The most terrifying thing of all, however? That after your first meeting, you couldn't seem to get him off your mind, nor you off his...





	1. Promotion

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is basically just an excuse to get some cheesy Scorpy/reader fluff out of the way. In the midst of school and work and everything life throws at me, fanfics keep me right– especially dorky romances about one of my favorite boys. <3

When you heard that they posted the finalized crew of Captain Crais’s command carrier, you were equal parts ecstatic and worried. You knew that they would be fahrbot if they didn’t give you this assignment, the only alternatives being to send you to clear out the natives on some savage planet or babysit a collection of disgusting criminals on a Leviathan prison transport. You were much too good for either of those jobs and were sure the higher-ups knew that. _Right?_ The cool, homey steel of a Peacekeeper ship was infinitely preferable to the other options, so you took your time in making your way to the assignation board, preparing yourself for the absolute worst. Most Peacekeepers would probably rush over and get it over with, like ripping off a bandage, but you were different. 

Growing up being commanded to suppress emotion and hide your pain and fear was always harder for you than the other children. You remember crying, then being punished for crying, and then crying some more. You never understood why basic training was so hard for you, but eventually discovered a solution. You could not entirely push away your emotions like the others, but you could certainly hide them, and as long as no one caught the slight waver in your voice or the teary film in your eyes, you would be fine. You began to train as hard as you could and push your limits as often as you were able, even if that led to physical harm. As training went on, you found yourself doing exceedingly well, becoming proud and over confidant.

Then came the Trials, three Peacekeeper tests that would prove you were finally ready for the title of Soldier. Trial one was straight combat—nothing but you and a pulse pistol to take on hoard after hoard of Leuithian Blugbos. It was easy for you, but not easy enough to shine any real light on your skills. Trial two was a bit trickier: an agility course. You finished in time, but not nearly as fast as some of the other initiates. _Just my frelling luck_ , you had thought, _how am I going to get a notable regiment without high trial scores?_ Then came the third trial. Everyone acknowledged it as the worst of the three, a Peacekeeper facilitated Scarran interrogation. Some said that it drove many promising cadets to madness if it didn’t kill them first, so when you were called to the small medical-looking room, you definitely were worried. You had never experienced the direct heat that Scarrans’ used, but certainly knew of its effects on Sebacians. As you felt your mouth dry up, a trio of doctors strapped you down onto a padded table while a Sub-Officer scribbled notes onto a holo-pad in the corner of the room. You waited until a large Scarran was brought in, thick chains around its wrists and large looping needles sticking out of its scaly neck. Your eyes grew wide and you shut them quickly, taking deep breaths and trying to stave your ever-quickening heart. Suddenly you felt a warm tingle on your cheeks. You breathed deeply and felt the corner of your mouth twitch. _This is what everyone is so worried about? What a bunch of narls._ You withstood the entire trial, feeling the heat grow more and more intense, but nothing someone as dedicated as you couldn’t handle. When you finally opened your eyes, the doctors and Sub-Officer all looked at you, stunned. Later you learned that you had beaten the previous record for longest time under Scarran heat three-fold. With your name now cemented in the Peacekeeper ranks, hopefully, you would make it to Officer, and, maybe one day, to Captain. 

Now, however, as you pulled yourself slowly toward the small holographic screen that would decide your fate, you winced. Taking a deep breath you brought your eyes to the text and gasped. You squeezed your eyes shut and looked again; sure you’d misread it. You caught your squeal with your palm and grinned like a fool. Not only had you made it under Crais’s command, but you also had been given a promotion! _Sub-Officer Leali Ren. I like the sound of that!_ You giggled quietly and turned, speeding to your quarters, making sure that no one else could see how overjoyed you were.

The first day aboard the ship was everything you’d ever dreamed. As a new Sub Officer, you were permitted in the restricted parts of the carrier and made privy to most of the top-secret information hidden from the common soldiers. The most interesting piece of intelligence revealed to you was of the Captain’s plans for the Leviathan. He was leading a project to impregnate it with Peacekeeper tech, making, if successful, a living gunship. It certainly was a novel idea, and simply reminded you why Crais was the most sought after Captain in the Plaisar Regiment. 

However, as time went on, a string of unfortunate occurrences began to unfold. After his brother was killed during battle, Crais became unhinged. Despite reviewing the footage of his brother’s altercation with a mysterious aircraft many times to ensure that it was an accident, not you or any one else aboard the ship could assuage him of desire for revenge. His decisions became more and more bewildering and thoughtless, ultimately resulting in him losing control altogether. His rank was stripped and the carrier transferred over to another commander—a Scarran/Sebacian hybrid named Scorpius. You had not seen the elusive commander yet, but heard tales of his repulsive features and overly excessive tactics. The image you held in your mind was certainly frightening, but as your commander you could do nothing but show respect. Even if he were a disgusting Scarran half-breed, you would still be a good little soldier and obey, as was the lot laid out for Peacekeepers. 

One solar day, about three months into Scorpius’s command, you received a message from the Lieutenant Bracca asking for some Leviathan transcripts a search party had acquired on a commerce planet. You, as well as everyone else aboard the command carrier, knew why finds of this sort were so valuable. Each day you found the similarities between your current and former Commander staggering. _What is so special about this John Crichton? Why the frell is he worth it?_ You shook your head and collected the files. _Must be a pretty important guy to get all this attention._ It did not take you long to reach the Lieutenant’s post. You waltzed into his personal quarters where you heard him talking gently to someone. You were too busy shuffling through the files and thinking about who this Chrichton might be to look up to see who it was. 

You reached the Lieutenant and pressed the thin papers together neatly. “Here are the transcripts you asked for, Lieutenant Braca.”

“Yes, right,” he sighed and turned to you, taking the items out of your hands roughly, “Thank you, Ren, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t interrupt me when I am talking to a superior officer.” 

All the color drained from your face when you looked to see who that officer was. The man was Sebacianoid, clad entirely in leather, with skin that was pale to the point of transparency. His eyes were light, but sunk in his face deeply, and his cheekbones almost seemed to harbor scales. All in all, Scorpius was not nearly what you had expected, and although you knew he was not stereotypically handsome for a male, you immediately found him oddly attractive—if not incredibly intimidating. Though, you definitely knew to keep such thoughts to yourself. Still, your breath caught in your throat as you ogled him for a little too long.

“It is not polite to stare Sub-Officer Ren.” His long form took a step forward and you flinched, regaining some of your senses. 

“Yes, no. Sorry, I didn’t mean—” Your voice wobbled. You felt your cheeks grow warm, and knew that your face had turned red—like it always did when you were nervous. You cleared your throat and brought your eyes to Braca. “Apologies, sir. I shall return to the flight deck.”

He nodded and you gladly turned to leave, but when Scorpius calmly raised his voice, you halted. 

“You know Braca, I still need someone to lend me some… _assistance…_ for that matter we were discussing.” Your eyes flickered back as you realized Scorpius was fixated on you. The Lieutenant seemed to understand his commander’s request and smiled mischievously.   

“Yes, sir. Sub-Officer Ren,” he called, turning to you, “you are now appointed to be Commander Scorpius’s personal aid. This is a high honor. Do not disappoint this regiment.” And with that, he sped away, papers in hand. 

You felt frozen. Your body wouldn’t move, no matter how much you told it to. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing. Suddenly his strangely lilting voice snapped you out of it. 

“So sorry to pull you out of whatever important work you must have been doing.” The way he spoke was odd, you realized. He sounded precise, like he was choosing each and every word specifically and delicately. Yet, he also sounded ridiculously haughty, as if he didn’t care how his words affected those around him. He went on. “Tell me—Ren was it? — do you fear me?” You were stunned by his question, but even more by the nonchalant way he was asking it. He smiled though blackening lips. You shook your head ‘no,’ your words not doing their job. Your heart was beating so fast and you wondered which of your options was more preferable: let him _think_ he scares you, or let him _know_ the opposite. 

“Gods no!” You squeaked with wide eyes, accidentally answering his question by answering yours. He chucked. He took another step closer. 

“Sub-Officer Ren, have you ever been on a Leviathan?” 

You let out an involuntary sigh, all too happy that you no longer had to talk or think about your fear or attraction with this intriguing creature eyeing you. “I haven’t,” you remark, “but I’ve always found them... interesting, I suppose.”

“Good.” He smiled with teeth that looked as though they could cut through flesh with ease, yet his manner staved all physical fear away. He was definitely more privy to psychological warfare, you could tell.  "Because we need to commandeer one. You are aware, of course of Commander John Crichton?"

"Of course," you respond, with a little more vexation than you intended. You stiffen as he sits himself on a metallic bench. 

"You dare use that tone with a Commanding Officer?" You feel your knees weaken, but as you glance at his expression, all you see is a smile. _He's having_ fun, you think. Somehow, this relaxes you. Your eyes drop to the floor and the corners of your mouth turn up in a hidden smile. 

"Of course not. Sorry, Sir. I meant no disrespect."

"Didn't you?" He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. "Most Peacekeepers find me a bit... hard to stomach. Though not many dare to be insubordinate in my presence. I have a reputation." He grins broadly and you feel his eyes flick over you. 

"I am aware of your reputation," you flutter your eyes up to meet his. "I think that Peacekeepers focus more on the violence. Shoot first, think later mentality. I actually prefer those who adhere to a structured plan. Intelligence should trump brawn, I say." 

He draws back a bit and lowers his head. If you aren't mistaken, his look has turned carnivorous. You hope you weren't out of line, and quickly stutter out, "I-in my opinion, S-sir, a-a-at least."

He raises a hand and stands, nearing _very_ close to you. If he wanted, he could probably rip your throat out right here, but you doubt it. That is, unless you've judged him wrong. He speaks, quietly at first, in no more than a whisper, " _Peacekeepers_ ," he says, "You say that as if you aren't one of us."

"W-well, of course I am," your voice shakes. 

"Are you?" He grins again and your heart skips a beat. _Just who the frell is this guy?_

You shake your head and your brow furrows, "I–" you are struck speechless as your Commander leans in to your ear. He is so close that you can feel his abnormally warm breath on your neck. You freeze, your mind blank.

"We're both on the outside. I believe I've read your file. All those problems with training? All that pain. Neither of us can ever belong to _them_ – not entirely," he leans back out and you can't help but gravitate slightly toward him as he goes. Your eyes grow wide. "We must... be there for each other, yes?" He extends a hand and you nod, reaching out your own arm to shake his. 

"Right," you say, trying– and failing– to smile as if nothing were wrong, when clearly everything is. Suddenly, he shifts a gloved finger to stroke the dorsum of your hand and you instinctively pull away. He inhales sharply and stiffly pulls his arms to his sides. 

"Ren," he states matter-of-factly, "I have been despised all my life. Believe me, I can tell the difference between fear and... a more primal feeling." His smile stretches across his face and his teeth point sharply. "Although, I'd understand If you wish to leave." He gestures to the door. Your eyes widen. You realize, in this moment, he's giving you a choice. _Is he trying to be... kind?_ You look him over and your mouth pulls to the side. 

"You're right. I am an outsider. I don't know why, I'm as Sebacian as they come, but, yes, I've never fit in," you pull your arms to your chest and sigh, "my seniors would actively tell the others to attack me. I was weak, then. I suppose I'm still weak."

"I don't think it's weakness," Scorpius cooed, as he neared you once again. 

"In any case, I do think it would be more appropriate if I left," your voice offered a slight inflection that made the hybrid growl.

"But?" 

You eyed him with a small smile, "But... what exactly are your intentions, Commander Scorpius?"

He looked to the floor and took a breath. Suddenly, his arm was around your waist and he spun you to him. Your torso was tucked snuggly aside his and you knew he could feel your quickened heartbeat through all the cloth and leather. 

“My intentions… are whatever you wish them to be.” His grin looked certainly Scarran, and you knew his thoughts were definitely less than pure. He leaned down slowly. Soon those blackened lips would be on yours. Your wanting eyes fluttered shut… Suddenly, the situation settled in your mind and you pushed him away, covering your face with your trembling hands. 

“I’m sorry. I,” you shook your head, barely getting the words out. Turning to the door, your stiff limbs pulled you away, uttering out one final, “sorry,” as you left. The door automatically closed at your departure, but not before Scorpius let one final smile grace his sharply masked face. It was a smile of determination, and it would have struck your very core. In fact, it would have made it very hard to leave, that is, if you had turned around. Instead, you sped to your room, your blood turning cold and your face flushed.  When you finally made it, you realized that you hadn’t been breathing that whole time. Gasping in air you cursed yourself, the omniverse, and indeed Scorpius for putting you in such an unfamiliar situation. “Tomorrow’s another solar day,” you whisper, hoping against hope that whatever the frell had just happened would never repeat itself. And yet… at the same time, you almost hoped it would.


	2. In The Flax

Waking up the next solar day was strange. Everything from the night (or as close as you could get to night on a Command Carrier) seemed like a bizarre dream. At first you had believed it was. Stretching and yawning, you rushed off to the bridge for some food cubes, needing some sustenance after such a strange dream. When you arrived, after placing a colorful assortment of mostly flavorless protein blocks on your tray, you felt a hand on your shoulder. For the briefest of seconds you thought it was Scorpius, but let out a sigh of relief as you turned to see the glowing face of Gilina Renaez, a Peacekeeper Tech who was on leave from Scorpius’s Gammak Base. And you couldn’t be happier. Every day she was here, you felt a little more at ease. After all, she was the only Sebacean that had ever been unconditionally kind to you, aside from your mother. You’d always thought that’s why the two of you got along so well. You both stood out. 

You were just about to tell her about your dream (in hushed tones of course), when she spoke up excitedly, “I heard about your promotion! Good job!” At this she subtly squeezed your hand, the absolute highest form of affection one was allowed to show on a Peacekeeper ship. She went on talking, but as the color drained from your face, she trailed off. “Hey, you alright? You look terrible.” 

“You mean, that wasn’t a dream?” You shook, your eyes growing ever wider. She pulled away, clearly catching your odd behavior. You rushed over to a table and placed your tray atop it quickly, before falling into a cold, metal chair. Gilina followed suit, and pulled her hands over the table to hover above yours. 

"What's wrong, Leali? I thought this would be good news? You've worked so hard?" It was clear she wanted to console you more, but you both settled for her fingertips barely connecting with your knuckles. 

Your eyes flicker to hers, and you briefly consider telling your only friend what had just conspired. You immediately think better of it, however. _The less she knows, the better. The last thing she needs is more trouble._ You remember back to when the peacekeepers found her, alone on the Bizantian. She was an outcast before then. She was even more of an outcast now. You shook your head, and feigned a smile. 

“No, sorry. Of course it’s good news! I just… thought I had dreamt it.” You wonder if she can see though your facade, but when you notice her shoulders lose their tension, you know you're in the clear. You let out a small sigh of relief. Gilina begins to grin.

“You are so lucky, Lea. I’m so proud of you. No one deserves this more!” For a microt you think you can see a dark glint in her expression. 

“But?” You querie, though fairly sure you know exactly what her answer will be. After all, Gilina never has been Scorpius’ biggest fan– a secret she makes known to you more often than she should.

“Well, I just don’t really like the thought of you being in such close proximity to… _you know_.” _Nailed it_ , you think. She goes on in a whisper, “he frightens me. I just want to be sure you’re all right.”

You sigh quietly, “I’m fine. He’s actually not all that bad. Better than Crais, at least. I could have had it worse, I suppose.” Gilina nods in agreement. The ex-Commander’s infamous exploits were now common knowledge among all the Peacekeeper units. 

“I suppose,” she echoes. “Just be careful.” You nod again and she smiles. “In any case, a promotion this big will no doubt make the other Subs jealous.” Biting your lip, you let out a giggle. Perhaps you could get used to this? I mean, at the end of the day it’s just your job. You heard a saying once, _if you’re stuck in the flax, be sure to die comfortably_. You never really understood it, but now you knew. Even in the worst situation, it’s still up to you to make the most of it. With a newfound determination you flash a smile at Gilina, but notice that it’s now her face that has gone pallid. She stands, looking somewhere above you. Your eyes follow her gaze.

“Commander Scorpius,” she blurts out. You quickly stand as well.

“Hello, sir.” You blush involuntarily and can immediately feel your heart pounding. _Actually, the flax might be preferable to this_ , you think. 

“Good morning, Ren.” His focus flickers to the uneaten food cubes on the table. “Aren’t you hungry?” You look to the table and nod, turning your wide gaze back to the hybrid. 

“Uh… yes. We were just about to start eating.” 

He turns, as if pondering, and shakes his head, “Well, that won’t do. You are now my _personal_ aide. As such, you are to eat with me.” You didn’t like the way he said personal and really didn’t like the way he said 'you are to eat with me'. Worry plastering your features, you look back to Gilina and tilt your head in apology. You scoop up your food tray and signal at Scorpius, waving a frail goodbye to Gilina.

“After you,” he coos, gesturing a hand for you to lead the way. You took a breath. You had a feeling you knew where he wanted you to go, but you pushed the thought away. _He wouldn’t take me_ there _, right?_ You stumbled cautiously toward the chamber you semi-prayed he didn’t have in mind. 

“So, Commander, where am I to go?”

In a tone barely more than a whisper, he answered in your ear, “my chambers.” _Frelling frell. I frelling knew it_. Your mind was filled with the oddest of curses. Half of you was filled with fury that this perplexing beast was now certainly on a mission to claim you, yet the other half longed to see him try. You bit down your worry. Sure, you were more reserved than most of the Peacekeepers you knew, but then again, you weren’t as naive as your comrades seemed to think either. You understood the present situation. Flashing your eyes up and down the hall to make sure you were secluded, you spoke, “Commander,” you caught sight of him in your peripheral and could see his black lips upturned. Unsure how to begin, you decide to simply be frank, "I've never... _fraternized_... before." The words fly off your tongue, and you briefly notice a lag in his step. "I mean, it's just that I never wanted to. It never came up with anyone I... wanted," your voice was soft and you felt his eyes digging holes into your back. You were now maybe five microts from the door to Scorpius' room, and you knew you had to explain your intent clearly. Though you did appreciate his rapt attention, and noted his willingness to let you finish your thought. "I don't know what you expect of me, but I wanted to make it clear that I am not at all used to this kind of... attention. And you..." You breathe deeply, nearly catching the words in your throat, "you make my head spin.”

At this, you feel him halt, and turn, still clutching your tray tightly to your chest. You couldn’t really read his expression. Was he angry? Disappointed? Would he laugh at you and leave like everyone else? Suddenly, you catch a glint leave his eyes, leaving his dark features almost looking… vulnerable. 

“I apologize.” This draws you back. What reason would _he_ have to apologize? It’s not his fault the one person he took a shine to was the most inexperienced Peacekeeper soldier to possibly ever live. You flicker your eyes up and down his long body, incredulously. Resting again on his thin face, you seem to notice it is paler than usual. He went on, “I hadn’t even considered… I certainly would not have…” His voice escaped his lips in a soft growl. He wasn’t looking at you, instead bouncing his gaze around the hallway, as if attempting to anchor his focus in place. He began to hunch over slightly, flattening his arms to his sides, ending them with hard, leathery fists. You shake your head eyes wide with confusion. 

“Are you okay?” You near him with a wary step, hovering your hands in front of him, unsure whether or not to steady his tense form. He shoots bulleted eyes at you, incredulously.

“Am _I_? No. _I tried to force_ … _pressure_ …” He huffed incoherently and threw down his arms in rage. You had heard rumors that when he got exceptionally angry, his Scarran side took over. You hoped this wasn’t one of those times. As you were thinking this, he sped past you, rushing to his chambers. Leaving you behind.

“Wait!” You called out, veritably louder than you intended to. He stopped, though would not turn around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.” You saw his back rise and lower in a deep growl and took a step toward him. “The truth is, and I probably shouldn’t even say this, you being my Superior, but I _would_ maybe wish to… explore this.” Suddenly calm, he perked up and turned to you, eyes dark and wide with uncertainty. You took another step. “All I ask is that you give me time, and maybe take this slowly?” 

He turns completely, and closes the gap between the two of you. Gently, he takes the tray from your hands, and you both realize that they’re shaking. His brow falls, consuming his eyes under the leather of his mask. He looks ashamed. You soften.  

“Maybe we can start by sharing a meal, Commander,” you breathe out. It sounds so natural and your eyes wave over his close form. “ _Only_ a meal, of course,” you reiterate. He looks to you and straightens his posture. He nods firmly and smiles, but you still see a twinge of pain hiding behind his eyes.

“My pleasure, Sub-Officer Ren.” Now in the lead, Scorpius closed the small distance to his quarters. As he opened the door, you briefly imagine what the interior looks like. Your mind runs wild, picturing a large war office instead of the normal Peacekeeper dorms. It would be tidy, save the papers and folders containing important information regarding Chrichton and his Leviathan. Maybe he’d have some wanted posters tacked to his walls, a constant reminder of what he needed to find and what still stood in his way. You nodded happily, finalizing the image in your head as the two of you entered the room. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

You were actually stupefied at how accurate your guess had been. You wouldn’t have even known someone slept here, had your eyes not found the small bed tucked away neatly in the corner. There were indeed many organized and disorganized documents flooding the large space, and there were Peacekeeper headshots of Crichton and his companions lining the leftmost wall. Among them was a very stern looking Sebacian. 

“Is that Aeryn Sun?” You asked quietly, despite seeing her name written in bold letters right underneath her picture. 

“Yes,” Scorpius replied as he stacked the loose papers together. 

“Have you met?”

“I haven’t yet had the pleasure.” He piled his cargo on a cabinet beside the table and placed the tray of food cubes in the center, pulling two chairs over from the wall. He motioned you over, waiting for you to take your seat before taking his. As you sunk into the cool metal, you sighed.

“I did once. It was right before she was stripped of command.” You grab a soft greenish block and bite into it gingerly. Scorpius’ eyes rest on you, subtly nodding his head for you to continue. “Of course, Crais was in charge then. Too headstrong,” you provide. 

“You… did not care for your previous Commander?” Even though his voice was stern, you smiled with a laugh.

“He was much too impulsive! And he put all of us at risk just to find John Chrichton!” Your smile faded and you tensed. The eyes across from yours turned fiery. “What I mean is,” you rectify, “he was merely after him for revenge. You, on the other hand need him for a purpose. To help with…” You paused as you struggled to remember the word. 

“Wormhole technology,” he stated. Your gaze shot up at him, and you could swear that a childish excitement hid behind those calculating eyes. You nod, your grin returning. 

“Yes! Wormholes! Now,” you turned away sheepishly, nibbling into the side of a thin, blue cracker, “what are those again?”

He beamed with uncharacteristic eagerness, proceeding to tell you everything he knew about wormholes–that he had not deemed top secret– and how they could help save all species from Scarran control. He finished his lecture with an angry glance toward the main poster across the room. 

“Of course, the fool of a human refuses to aid me in this endeavor. He has let his hatred of me blind him to the obvious truth. In turn, I have run out of options other than his capture and incarceration. However,” he blinked, as if in reverence, “it will all be worth it as soon as I have the power to destroy the Scarrans.”

“Is that at all hard for you?” You pipe. An odd look takes his face and you expand, “They’re still your species, after all. Isn’t it hard for you to be so bent on erradicating them?”

Your commander lets out a hiss and squints, as though he had just tasted the most bitter thing in the universe. “Of course not! They are the definition of depravity! They deserve extermination!” You sigh a silent apology and reach a hand across the table to layer his. He calms and sighs himself, flickering his eyes to peer curiously at your fingers. “Apologies. My history with Scarrans is… unfortunate.”

You nod. “But it’s solidified your resolution. I understand.” He smiled lopsidedly and you purse your lips. _Life must have been so painful for him. Not belonging with the Scarrans. Not belonging with the Peacekeepers. Just… floating_ , you thought. Your heart went out to him. He added one brief statement and you turned your full attention back to his quiet, subdued words, “All I remember was pain. I was not a true Scarran, nor was I a true Sebacian. I was always just… floating from one world to the next.” You squeezed his hand ever so slightly, a compasionate smile overtaking your features. You trail your arm away from his, placing it under your chin and gazing at him thoughtfully. In the back of your mind, a question forms, and you lose yourself in wondering if your immediate ability to see inside his mind meant anything at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any ooc moments or faults in terminology or timeline. I'm still planning on doing more research, but with so much Farscape lore, it's hard to keep track. Just bear with me, y'all. Btw, I have zero idea how often I'll be posting this. I have SO much other stuff on my plate right now. I'm seriously enjoying this, however, so I'll try to get back to it really soon. :)


	3. The Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to DarkThornFell, the only person who reads this frelling thing other than me. Thanks for your support! :)

You wake up the next morning, blinking heavily as you stare at the shiny metal ceiling above you. Everything from the night before felt almost surreal. You groggily recall your dinner with Commander Scorpius, and you quickly blush. Though nothing all too exciting happened, and your fellow Peacekeepers would berate you for feeling such… _feelings_ , there was an undeniable intimacy in sharing a simple meal with him. The pressure to be something other than what you are had been lifted, and you hoped that his ever standing guard may have been as well. You smiled as you stood from your cot, moving on autopilot to the communal bathroom. You really liked him. But it was more than that. You thoroughly enjoyed his company, and with him you felt… less alone.

You must have been in a total daze, because suddenly you collide with a dark form.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, drannit,” a tall Officer leers at you. You immediately recognize him as Lieh Thal, a young and influential Peacekeeper— and one you always purposefully avoid. He was a truly exemplary example of Sebacian genetics, and on top of being head of his regiment in training and the Trials, many also found him exceedingly attractive. Because of this, he was a sought after copulation partner, though you never really understood the appeal. To you, he was more of a brute, and his history for extremely rash and violent behavior made you nervous. With his menacing form hovering over you now, you felt even more so.

In leu of responding, you focus on a spot in the distance and nod, hoping the fear that is welling up within you will be masked by your military training. With a humph he looks you up and down, before smiling widely.

“That’s good,” he says, nodding. He turns to walk away, but not before placing his hand over your shoulder. “Grots should know their place.” He lets out a growling laugh as he glares at you, leaving the room with his chest puffed up and his muscles bulging. You shiver, releasing the breath you’d been holding. Your eyes flicker back and you jolt as you catch his gaze in yours. You find a hungry look in his eyes, like you're looking straight into the face of a rabid brindz hound. You hurry away with the hopes you won't have to interact again, and make your way to the showers. You see Gilina cleaning off and rush to the washing station beside her. You begin to disrobe as she notices you, her eyes flooding with concern. It takes her a microt before she can speak.

“So,” she sighs, clearly trying to find the words. “What the frell happened?!” Gilina suddenly blurts out as she turns to you. You let the water wash over you and rub your eyes.

“Well, I just ran into Thal a microt ago, literally.” Your focus flickers toward her and you sigh dramatically. “Or do you mean with Commander Scorpius?”

Her eyes widen and she nods eagerly.

You smile as subtly as you can manage and shrug your shoulders. You hate the idea of lying to your friend, but you know how dangerous it is for Peacekeepers to form even the smallest of romances. You decide that the half-truth would be better than nothing. “Nothing too important,” you say, “he's got me doing grunt work and I think he's trying to keep me on a short leash.”

Gilina visibly softens as she returns to washing her hair. “Good. That's good,” she says, her eyes falling to the water pooling on the floor, “Just be careful you stay on his good side, okay? He may only be half monster, but he's a whole one when he's angry. Believe me, I've seen him when he was unhinged and... well, I'm just worried about you.”

“I'll be fine,” you reply, smiling. “I think I'm figuring out how to handle him.” You internally laugh, knowing that your statement does not do Scorpius' and your connection justice. Gilina tilts her head in thought, clearly not entirely believing you. _He really knows how to scare people away_ , you think as your friend steps back, grabbing a towel off the wall.

“Please,” she says, her voice softening to barely more than a whisper. You step out of the shower's stream to hear her better. “Know you can come to me with anything, Leali. Anything. You're the only friend I've got on this ship. I don't want to lose you.”

You nod, as you feel your eyes well with tears. Shakily, you step back into the water that rains down behind you, hiding the tears that quickly begin to rain down your face, as well. “I know, Gilina. I feel the same.” You smile to yourself as she quickly grabs your hand before leaving. She gives you a brief wave as she walks away, wrapping her towel around her short, blond hair. You turn back to the wall as steam builds up around you. Your mind runs. That was the first time anyone had ever called you their friend. You purse your lips, suppressing the beam that's desperate to escape, reveling in the warm water that waves over you. You replay the word over and over again in your mind. It might be the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

* * *

  

Almost as soon as you leave the room, Lieutenant Braca catches your eye. He stiffly marches over to you and you press your arms to your sides, debating whether to salute him or not.

“Sub-Officer Ren,” he begins, words you don't think you'll ever tire of hearing. “The Commander was looking for you.” Your heart skips a beat and you nod briskly. You turn to leave, but are interrupted by your superior's continued thoughts. “I know your time will Commander Scorpius will be enlightening. It's not every day one gets the opportunity to see his true genius firsthand. We are the luckiest ones on this ship, that we get the privilege to be even a minuscule part of his plans,” Braca's gaze begins to shift upward as his eyelids flutter in reverence.

“Yes,” you pause, not used to seeing the Lieutenant in this light. It's good to know that someone on this ship isn't afraid of him. You smile in agreement, “I know it will be a great experience. I'm eager to do everything I can to assist in his vision.”

“That's good to hear. Your work does reflect the regiment, after all. I expect to hear _only_ good things. Am I clear?” He leans toward you with his eyebrows raised.

“Of course, sir,” you respond, noting the glare in his eyes.

He shoots you a brief, military nod and continues. “Good. You're in the Aurora Room today. Scorpius should arrive later on.”

“Of course, sir,” you repeat, as he turns on his heels and marches away from you.

You had never been in the Aurora Room, but you'd heard lots about it. It was the pinnacle of interrogation technology on the Command Carrier. Supposedly, it pulled the memories out of someone's head, putting them on display for the select few to see. You've heard quite a few jokes circle the corps about who your fellow Peacekeepers would use it on given the chance. All in all, you were excited. Not only would you be working alongside Scorpius, you would also be a part of history in the making.

However, when you arrive, you go pale.

“Welcome, grot! I knew I saw your name on the list today,” Officer Thal booms, his growling voice bouncing to every corner of the room. He saunters over to a large mechanical apparatus in the center of the room, one you recognize immediately as the Aurora Chair. “You haven't seen this seen this yet, have you? What do you say, Sub, want to give it a spin?” His barking laugh sends shivers down your spine and you freeze as he walks over to you. His dark eyes dart over you once more and he quiets, in a voice only you can hear. “I've heard about you Ren. The soldier who aced the Third Trial? You don't seem like anything special to me. I'm not sure I believe you. Why don't we strap you to the chair and see if there are any secrets we can bring to light?” He grabs your wrist and you pull back instinctively, your breath catching in your throat.

“That's enough, Thal. We've got work to do. You can harass her after we get this place prepared for the Commander,” a tech calls from the other side of the room. Thal looks to her and raises his hands.

“Sure! We're just having fun over here, right grot?” He roughly nudges your shoulder and you wince, your brow furrowing. The tech sighs and shakes her head, grabbing a tray full of greenish goo off the floor.

“Here,” she says, shoving the tray into your hands as Officer Thal stomps away.“Take this to cell four. Keep your guard up, the prisoner in there is completely unstable.”

“Last time I went in there, he nearly bit my hand off!” Another tech pipes up from behind the massive chair.

“Just be wary. The chair may have turned his brain to mush, but he's still a violent little frellwit.” She turns from you and heads back to the chair, presumably to help the other tech with repairs. You shake your head 'yes,' all too eager to get out of this room and clear your mind. With the tray in hand, you leave, the automatic door sliding closed behind you.

Cell four, which is located in the prison barracks, is fairly far away and as soon as your heart rate returns to normal, you're there. There is a small keypad next to the bulky metal door and you look at it curiously. Most doors simply open with a flash of your Peacekeeper ID card. The fact that this is such a heavy-duty cell puts you on edge once more, but you shake your head, pushing the worry away. You call out to a guard who sits half asleep across the room.

“What's the code for this cell? I'm bringing the prisoner food.” At your words the man grunts and stands, shoving you out of the way. He presses his pudgy finger across the buttons before trudging back to his chair. Within moments he is snoring. You stare at him with incredulous eyes, then turn back to the door. It opens with a hiss and you poke your head into the darkness. There is a window along the back wall coating the small space in a sickly green light. It takes you a moment to make out the withered form shivering in the corner. His knees are at his chest and his arms wrap his legs like he's holding onto them for dear life. You can only make out one wide blue eye, the other covered with some sort of metal mask. He is filthy, wearing nothing but rags and what looks like cycles worth of grime.

Though you have no idea what he is imprisoned for, you feel an overwhelming pity for the being cowering before you, as if your very emotions are being drawn out of you with each look. You kneel down and place the tray on the floor, only now getting a good look at the frellnik sludge that sits atop it. Food cubes may not be the most delicious source of nutrients, but whatever is on his plate looks as if it's already been digested—twice. You sigh and begin to stand, which seems to startle him and send him into a fit of thrashing. You kneel down again with your hands outstretched, both to soothe him and to prepare for combat if he's about to strike.

“It's okay. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you,” you say calmly. This seems to only aggravate him more and he shoots up, kicking wildly at the ground.

“Lies! Lying, lying liar! Peacekeepers hurt! Hurt! All they do! You do, you do, you do!” His howling cries tear at your insides as easily as a bullet.

“What is your name?” You ask softly, knowing that nothing you say will assuage him of his distrust for Peacekeepers. He hisses and spits at you, but does not move from his corner. “My name is Leali,” you blurt out. These words cause both of you to pause, each of you unsure why you just revealed personal information to a random prisoner.

His eye pierces yours. “Stark,” he whispers, as if answering might be some kind of trick.

“Alright, Stark. Would it be alright to ask why you're in here?” Your soft voice drifts through the room and he softens.

“You ask me? Ask me? Never asks me... Me, me, I, I, I. A slave. Banik slave. _They_ killed, _me_ here. Am I going? Going to the chair?”

“I don't know,” you pause. The tech was right, he's completely lost it. “Does it hurt you?”

He simply laughs, digging his face into his hands. “Peacekeepers hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt. All they do. All they do.” Suddenly he lunges at you, and for the first time you notice the chains on his wrists, digging deeply into his soft reddening flesh. Your arm instinctively flies up to a fighting pose and you catch his neck in the crook of your elbow. He flails his arms against you, trapped in your grip.

“If you get out, take me. You not Peacekeeper. Not one of them! I can see! I can see you now. If you get out, take me with you! Promise, promise, promise!” Your brow furrows and you release him, his frail body toppling to the floor. You back out of his cell while Stark lies facedown on the rocky ground. He begins to sob into the swirling dirt, though it may be laughter, you cannot tell. It's more likely both. You press the close on the door and note your own ragged breathing. You lean on its cool metal and blink your eyes, looking to the floor. Small bulbs of water drip from your eyes and splatter to the ground. The guard continues his snoring and you try to breathe, catching the emotions before they spill out of you altogether. You straighten yourself up and leave, hoping your red eyes don't give you away.

When you arrive back into the Aurora Room, Scorpius is already there. For a brief moment you're tempted to throw yourself into his arms, but you know that is out of the question. When he sees you, he stands a little straighter and you smile. That might be enough for you for now. He is speaking to the two techs and you take the opportunity to examine the Aurora Chair more closely. It is a beautiful feat of technology, but you know that when there is something beautiful, the ugly isn't far behind, and Peacekeeper tech is notorious for being very ugly. Though it had been dubbed an 'Interrogation Machine,' you wouldn't be surprised if it worked more like torture. In fact, after meeting Stark, who clearly had a history with the Chair, you're sure of it. Suddenly a bulky hand slips across your shoulders, pulling you close to a torso that smells deeply of sweat.

“You sure took your time getting back here, grot.”

You breathe sharply, more annoyed now than afraid. Immediately you shove him off, glaring at him with hooded eyes. His animalistic look returns, and he seems to pounce at you, locking his strong arms around your neck. You begin to gasp out as he spits his words out at you. “I am the best soldier on this whole frelling ship! How is it someone like you—someone small and weak—could surpass me? As soon as I find out how you cheated the Third Trial, they'll execute you, you know. And I'll be there with a smile on my face as the life drains from your eyes, and I'll be laughing.” Your arms fly at him pointlessly. He is much too strong for you to escape.

“Officer Thal!” A growling voice says from behind you. The Officer turns, still holding you firmly in place. Your vision begins to turn red. Scorpius stands fuming, but is clearly attempting to administer some form of control. “Release her at once!” In a microt Thal drops you, assuming military position, and you fall to the floor gasping. Scorpius's back hunches and his teeth bare; he is the animal now. But as you begin to cough, your arms uselessly trying to push your body up, his fury subsides. He aims one last deathly glare at the Officer, before calmly walking to your side. Your eyes flutter over him, widening as he suddenly lifts you up. As he holds you in his arms, he begins to move toward the door. Without looking back, Scorpius calls, “that was a mistake Officer Thal.” You nuzzle into his chest and swear you can feel his heart skip a beat.

In no time you are in his chambers again. He drops you onto his bed and you begin to sit up, your strength returning.

“Why are we here?  You could have taken me to my room.” Your breathing is shallow and he looks at you quizzically.

“You will be more protected in here. You must rest, Ren,” he says softly.

“I've dealt with worse,” you choke out, your throat still raw. “In my sixteenth cycle, a bunch of initiates held me down and burned me with their laser pistols. I still have the scars.”

“Maybe so, but you mustn't push yourself.”

“This coming from the Commander. Isn't it your _job_ to tell me to push myself?”

Scorpius sighs, standing. “You stay here. I will go... _speak_ with Officer Thal.” His tall form begins to leave your field of vision, which is still slightly blurry.

“Wait,” you whisper. He halts. “Could you stay? For a little while?”

He turns to you, his masked face uncertain. He nods and you could swear his pale skin turned rosy. He grabs a chair and places it beside his bed.

“This is dangerous,” you say, “What we're doing. You can't always rush to my side. You can't solve my problems for me.” Your voice is small and scratchy.

“I am the Commander. I can do as I please. You need not worry.”

“Are you kidding?” A tiny laugh leaves your lips. “You're Scarran. Half the ship is just terrified of you, the other half wants you dead. We have to be even _more_ careful than everyone else. We have to show restraint.” He nods and looks to the ground, like a child being scolded. You smile and press your palm to his cheek, stroking his deep cheekbone with your thumb. He is deceptively warm.

“Why do you care for me?” Scorpius looks at you with a level of sincerity that takes you aback. It seems that the both of you are swimming with your own insecurities.

You shrug, dropping your hand to the bed beside you. “I don't know. I just do. Why do _you_ care for _me_?”

His eyes drop to the floor, as if searching for the words. “Ren-”

“You can call me Leali if you want.”

He laughs shortly and you can see a soft smile bloom across his face. “Leali,” he corrects. His gaze flows over you, absorbing this moment into his memory. “There is much we share. You can understand me. You aren't fearful or pitying. You look at me as though I'm anyone else. I forget what I am when I'm with you.”

“And what are you?” You chime, your eyes instinctively drifting down to his lips.

“A beast. A monster. One undeserving of happiness.”

“I disagree,” you shake your head, your brow furrowing, “you aren't just born a monster, you make yourself one. Thal is a monster because he chooses to be. You're different. You chose to come here, to fight not only with us, but _for_ us. You're not half the monster you think you are. And you definitely deserve to be happy. We all do.”

He scoots his chair closer to the bed and leans over you. “That's... difficult for me to believe. My whole life, fate has been conspiring against me. You will have to forgive me if I cannot trust the things I feel.”

“We're Peacekeepers. Feeling anything is an unforgivable offense,” you laugh, absentmindedly raising your hand to the base of his neck. “You're lucky neither of us are _normal_ Peacekeepers.” You run your teeth over your bottom lip and grin, drifting your eyes along his facial features. His dark smile curls up and you gently pull his lips down to yours, feeling all the fears you have melt away, if only for the moment. It's a long and tender kiss, and you wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped in his embrace. You notice that he is just as lost in the moment as you are and you gently break away from him. “We should go,” you breathe, “People will notice you're gone. At least Braca will. I think he's got a thing for you.”

Scorpius laughs uncharacteristically and looks to you, drinking you in. He drops his lips to yours once more, absorbing your strength in an instant. He quickly pulls back up. “You should stay here. I still need to take care of Thal. That sort of behavior is unacceptable, regardless of who it happens to.” He brushes the back of his gloved hand across your forehead and you nod.

“I'll be here, _Commander_.” You smile and he stands, nearing the door. He looks back to you once more, eyes filled with uncertainty and hopefully a bit of happiness. Then he's gone. Your own hand drifts over your heart. You’ve never felt it beat so fast.


End file.
